


GRATION

by Usagi_Mitsu



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Aerial Combat, Airship, Au Ra (Final Fantasy XIV), Au Ra Raen (Final Fantasy XIV), Au Ra Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Battle, Female Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Fighting, Firmament, Garlemald - Freeform, Gen, Going Rogue, Gration, Male Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te (Final Fantasy XIV), Miqo'te Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Original Characters - Freeform, Saving Ishgard, War, devastation, diving deeper into Ishgard, ishgard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22426408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Usagi_Mitsu/pseuds/Usagi_Mitsu
Summary: It is a celebratory day in Ishgard: The construction of the Firmament has finally been concluded and amidst the revelry, four eager helpers are congratulating themselves for their succesfull efforts. But a new thread to the city is approaching and the ringing of the bells signals the beginning of another gruesome chapter in the city states history ...
Relationships: Warrior of Light & Ishgard
Kudos: 1





	1. Introduction & special Thanks

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bismarck](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/554149) by SABATON. 



> Please be aware: This story contains spoilers for FFXIV up until Patch 5.1!

This is possibly going to be the most self indulgent piece of fiction I have written so far. It combines three ideas that I have had over the last few months into one story:

A) The idea of a Dragoon Warrior of Light fusing with Tiamat just the way Nidhogg and Estinien did. But since it happens willingly, they are actually able to fight together and become much stronger.

B) Zenos not going “boring boring” after killing his father, but actually using the power of the empire to concoct a plan to draw the Warrior of Light out.

C) The idea of the Warriors of Light being sick of staying on the defensive side and finally joining the fray as an active and almost rogue unit, attacking and taking over a garlean airship.

I have many inspirations for this, but I do believe the biggest would be the song _Bismarck_ by the Swedish band Sabaton. They made me want to write this in the first place and therefore I am grateful to them!

On that note, I would like to thank my dear friends Mholi, Enrei and Tsuki for allowing me to borrow their Warriors for this project. I truly hope I am doing you justice!

And last but not least I would like to thank SQUARE ENIX and the whole development team of FINAL FANTASY XIV for the game. This story would not exist without it.

This story will be concluded in three acts:

_Act I: To Pay or To Perish_

_Act II: To Fly or To Fall_

_Act III: To Quit or to Conquer_

Updates might be slow, but I will try to write each part as a stand alone story. I will also try to minimize cliffhangers.

But without further ado, it is time for you to meet the main cast of this story.

**The Heroes**

_Shia Tamriel_

The 25 year old Miqo’te Seeker of the Sun has been working day and night to help restore the Firmament. As a carpenter and responsible for quite a bunch of trusses, she is also responsible for about 20 almost-heart attacks, since she simply ignored any safe precautions. When she is not grinning at the screams from down below while dancing across thin wooden beams, she loves to travel and swing her lance as Ser Alberics latest student in the arts of Dragoon.

_Mholi'to Lihzeh_

After 24 long years, this Seeker of the Moon has finally found his calling weaving fine clothes and cloth for Ishgards newly rebuild district. He also gave his all supplying the work force with delicious fish from all over the continent. When adventuring, he gears up in thick plate armour and swings the sword of black steel and blood red rubys only an elected few know as “Cronos Lux”. He is the definition of the almost stoic knight – at least ot outsiders. His close companions call him mom at times for his fretting over them.

_Enrei Ritsuso_

As one of the most established alchemists in all of Eorzea, this Seeker of the Sun happily took up the challenge of helping out in Ishgard. She perfected her art in 26 summers and constructed the intricate and effective sewer system below the Firmament. Enrei is _the_ bookworm and deeply in love with her tomes – be it her scholaristic tome or the books at her shops. She can and will rob you of your last gil and you won’t even know it. Also: Fae magic is best magic.

_Tsukikage Tatewaki_

Tsuki is the youngest of the group, having traversed Eorzea for almost 22 years now. The Raen Au’Ra is known for her calm and composed demeanor. Even though she is a tiny young woman, she swings the forging hammer with great strength and works metal with the hands of a seasoned blacksmith. Though, cooking is where she excels. When fighting, she prefers a less personal approach, calling on astral and umbral powers to freeze or blast her enemies to bits.


	2. Act I – To Pay or To Perish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> … in which a celebratory day turns at the sighting of a few most uncommon celestial bodies & Ishgard faces a threat possibly worse than the Dragonsongwar.

They did not see it coming.

There were no warning signs.

The day had been a bright one. Clear morning air, no clouds in the sky, icy winds and the ringing of the cathedrals bells could be heard all over Coerthas. The first call came with dawn for the morning prayers of the clergy. The second time, they rung for the general liturgy. It was noon now and the bells were ringing to signal the end of a special service, for once not held in the cathedral proper.

Far from it.

The clergy, the house of commons, the house of lords, the merchants, the shop keepers – religious men and women, politicians, mothers, fathers, children, visitors. Practically everybody living in or currently visiting the proud city of Ishgard had come to the same place:

The Firmament.

In a huge effort, people of all paths of life from within and without had joined hands to help rebuild a large part of the former solitary city state. It had begun with the Mendicant's Court many moons prior.

Today, the people celebrated the finished work on the new Firmament. A huge area with beautiful stone and half-timber houses. The district in the east of the proud city of stone and steel had been razed to the ground as the Dragonsong War ravaged the lands, it’s inhabitants dead or fled to the Brume. Another burden to add to the inhabitants of the lower levels of Ishgard – the Pillars never saw refugees after all.

But today, all of that was gone and forgotten, as everyone met at the newly rebuild Firmament to celebrate. As tradition dictated – and as much as they wanted to separate state and church, some things just couldn’t be forced to happen that fast – they opened the celebrations with a traditional service for the public. One of the priests left following the thorough “sweeping” of the high clergy ranks read a sermon from the teachings of Enchiridion, a children’s choir sang a few hymns and the people prayed for happiness and prosperity, after a few politicians said their words of praise and thanks.

But as soon as they were finished, open joy and revelry took over:

Merchants were offering mulled wine and regional food. A few bards had assembled to play joyful music and quite a bunch of people were dancing in the streets.

The day could not have been more lovely.

* * *

At first, it wasn’t more than a few dark dots on the horizon. Just tiny little spots on the actual firmament, not bigger than a pinhead. But slowly, ever so slowly, they grew bigger and bigger.

It was around three in the afternoon, when the massive iron bells of the cathedral rang. This time though, not for a service, neither for a wake or in celebration.

The first ones to realise, that something was off, were the military men and women of Ishgard. Those, who had been trained to listen for the deep clang of the huge warning bells of the Dragonsong War.

The first to excuse themselves were the Lord Commander and his second in command. Ser Aymeric and Ser Lucia tried to be as inconspicuous and polite as possible. Neither wished for the crowd to panic. Who knew, what in Halones name would possess the clergy to ring the warning bells.

No need to make a fuss.

The members of the Athenaeum Astrologicum though, were all very much in favour of making a fuss. As soon as their head of state and the acting commander of the temple knights reached the newly established crisis centre in the heart of the Holy See, they informed them about the thread about to reach the proud city.

The tiny pinheads were not just anything. It wasn’t clouds. It wasn’t dragons.

They were airships.

Garlean airships for warfare. Just the type they had seen circling the battles in the Gimlyth Dark a few months prior.

And they were headed straight for Ishgard.

* * *

The celebrations in the Firmament were still going strong. Nobody seemed to truly pay the bells any attention – who knew what the clergy had decided to celebrate now. Maybe it was just a special honour for the conclusion of the reconstruction efforts. After all, the bells had been rung for days without end when the war finally concluded and peace took hold, once more.

Some of course were still uneasy. But what nonsense. The Dravanians were their allies now and what else could possibly threaten them on this glorious day?

Also, there was so much to do and to see. Currently, the over eager celebration of a rather notable group of artisans drew the attention of young and old:

About ten people of all walks of life had assembled around a dark oaken table. Amongst them, young Francel de Haillenarte, face flushed red from the cold, was sharing a cup of mulled wine with a young Miqo’te in a short sleeved lab coat, with walnut coloured skin and dark fading to white hair. She was gesturing wildly with her cup, trying to make herself heard over the singing of their table companions right next to them.

A white-blonde seeker of the sun with rosy cheeks on her pale skin, kneeled on the bench. She had one arm around a less than willing looking keeper of the moon. The young woman was still dressed in her work clothes and had spilled at least a third of her hot mead on her green apron. Her unwilling companion wore a fine suit with a tailcoat and tried to keep the woman from spilling more sweet and hot liquid on his outfit. They were joined by a tiny Au’Ra lady. She too still wore her work outfit, the finest chef’s dress there had ever been. She sat on the other side of the table, taking tiny sips from her steaming cup, while the young Emmanellain de Fortemps had hooked his arm beneath hers, swaying left and right.

The four of them were – more or less willingly – singing a litany of songs about happiness, drinking, food, friends and success. Their current one centred around how you should sometimes just enjoy life and forget all your worries.

“ _Hip hip hurray raise up your glass! The devil won’t get all of us! Raise up your glass hip hip hurray! We drink until our final day!_ ”

Young lord Francel laughed.

“When I envisioned Ishgards streets being filled with song once more, I surely did not expect this,” he almost had to shout.

“This is all you will get with them,” his dark haired companion shot the others a disapproving glance, “but the good thing is: This will be over as soon as Shia reaches her third cup. That lightweight.”

“I am not a light weight, Enrei” Shia, the blonde one, complained and wagged her bushy tail around, “I can drink more than you could ever wish to be able to!”

“Maybe,” the woman called Enrei answered, taking a sip from her own cup, “but while I drink and enjoy, you just keep on pouring it down your throat and you’ll be out drunk baptizing the new alleyways of the Firmament.”

Shia wanted to respond something, but the other Miqo’te she had been hugging, put a hand on her shoulder.

“She’s not worth it. What song shall we sing next?”

“Exactly,” Emmanellain nodded enthusiastically, “Mholi’to is absolutely right!”

“… just Mholi … please …”

But the quiet protest got lost as Shia, the young lord and the Au’ra woman fell back into a new song.

“ _It was the day, when the gods all got together, when they got drunk and build this amazing world-_ “

“By the gods,” Enrei groaned. She tugged her head beneath her arms, trying to block them out.

But as soon as the two of them began singing a traditional ishgardian drinking song, the volume of their voices joined by quite the crowd of passers-by’s was just too much.

The drinking went on for another hour, the crowd gradually growing bigger and bigger. It seemed like half of Ishgard had joined the singing and dancing. In the midst of the people, Emmanellain got pulled aside by two of the temple knights. They whispered something into his ear. The young lords face turned from thoroughly delighted to concerned in an instant.

“Peculiar.” Mholi, who had just raised his cup to smell if Shia had finally managed to pour him alcohol, watched their usually so eager friend answer the knights with furrowed brows. “Tsuki, look.”

The creamy white horns of one wine red Au’ra turned. Her eyes fixed on Emmanellain, she whispered loud enough for Mholi to hear her.

“That does not look good. What do you think is happening?”

“I have no idea. But yes, I do not like their expressions. Shall we subtly...” he trailed off, his head jerking towards Enrei and Shia. The two of them had kept on throwing insults at each other and were now about to start a drinking contest. At the moment, they were both trying to enlist Francel as their referee. The young lord though did not really look like he was eager to take on the job.

“Leave them to me,” Tsuki gracefully got to her feet, “try to make Emmanellain talk.” She pat down her fine dress and gave a reassuring smile.

“Yes.”

Mholi wasn’t really a stealthy one, but the chattering crowd gave him enough cover to carefully approach his target without raising suspicions.

“... are currently evacuating the pillars. The Brume is following shortly.”

“What about the people here?”

“We currently do not have enough men to begin the evacuation process here. We need the support of the high houses. Haillenarte and Dzemael are already mobilising their forces. But since Lord Artoirel is currently occupied with the security of the border at the Gimlyth Dark and your father is not currently residing in Ishgard, we need you to rally the knights of house Fortemps.”

Emmanellain shivered visibly. “Of course... Of course you have the support of House Fortemps. I shall give the command and send every able body we can currently spare. How much time do we have left?”

“The Astrologians are not quite sure. They are not acquainted with the possible speed and velocity of the currently used models and therefore cannot predict-”

The knight stopped mid-sentence as he finally noticed Mholi standing next to Emmanellain. The later one turned around as soon as he noticed the knights suspicious side eye and shook his head.

“It’s alright. He can listen. He is a capable fighter and we will need him and his companions – if,” and the young lord turned towards the table with a sigh, “if they are still capable of holding their weaponry, that is.”

Mholi liked his chapped lips.

“They are alright and can help. They probably even want to. We all do so,” he nodded towards the knights, “what is it that a rag-tag group of adventurers can do for you?”

Once more, the knights looked at each other and back at the young lord. He shrugged and nodded again.

“They are capable, as I said. But pray excuse me,” he gave a hearty salute, “I must go and do my duty. The knights of House Fortemps shall report back to the Congregation within a bell!”

He dove faster into the crowd towards the Mendicant's Court, the closest path towards the Brume and subsequently the Pillars.

Mholi gave the Maelstrom salute.

“I and my three companions might not look the part, but we are fighters and have all made our marks fighting alongside the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and the Warrior of Light.”

“No need to give your whole resume,” one of the knights nodded sharply, “get ready for battle and report back to the congregation. You will receive your orders-”

Again, something stopped him in the middle of his sentence. His left hand rose to his ear.

“Yes - I can hear you – what do you mean, communication is blocked – what? I cannot – the ward? Hello?! Urhg-” his fingers quickly grabbed the link pearl in his ear and pulled it out. The usually tiny ball of blue crystal sparked and turned to a light grey.

“What in Halones name happened?”

“Someone is jamming your communication, if I’m not mistaken,” another voice from behind Mholi supplied.

Shia, Enrei and Tsuki had made their way over. They all were still dressed in their work clothes from the opening event, but their faces had turned a shade darker.

“How can we help,” Shia asked, fingers nervously playing around with the buttons on her shirt.

“We have strict orders to return to the congregation,” the knight whose link pearl was still smoking explained, “before the communication stopped, second commander Ser Handeloup spoke about the city’s ward, Daniffen’s Collar. They were trying to contact the units in charge of raising it up and seemingly could not reach anyone. Are you lot capable of arming yourselves quickly and checking on them? You,” and he jerked his chin towards Mholi, “heard enough to understand how important this mission is.”

The Keeper of the Moon nodded, “I will fill them in. We will go check on the units at the ward, relay the orders from the congregation if necessary and report back to the Congregation.”

“Stay safe.”

“You too.”

Three pairs of eyes laid on him, their gaze expectant if not a bit worried.

“Where to, Mholi.” Shias eyes had narrowed. Her cheeks were still rosy from the alcohol, but her drink induced happiness seemed to have evaporated. The same could be said for Tsuki. Enrei on the other hand, still wore the very same expression as before, now maybe a tiny bit sterner.

“Enreis place. We gotta suit up. I will fill you in there.”

* * *

The streets of the Firmament were still filled with people as the group made their way to Enreis newly erected house. It was a beautiful stone building, crafts from the same grey stone and dark wood the rest of Ishgard was comprised of. It had a ground and a first floor with a small attic. Nothing special, but enough space for one craft loving Miqo’te. And for that Miqo’tes friends on visit. Or rather the people, that she tolerated in her presence.

And a few of those were now exchanging their crafts uniforms for sturdy metals and leather. They listened intently to Mholi, who gave them a brief overview of the conversation and their new mission.

“Suit-up, check on the units at the ward, report back to the Congregation. Did I miss something?”

Tsuki fumbled at the clasps of her long cloak, trying to make the shoulder strap of her long staff stay in place. Enrei gladly helped her with adjusting, after she adjusted her own uniform jacket.

Mholi gave a nod, weighing the huge junk of metal he called a sword in his hands. “That is the mission, as far as I understand it.”

“And someone is jamming communications, which is why they need someone to check personally? Peculiar,” Shia closed the last clasps of her leather jerkin. “Why us though?”

“Because we were there and they are short on hand with people anyways.”

“And what are we facing? If they have to move the people into the shelters?”

“I must confess that I have no idea,” Mholi secured his Zweihander on his back, “but if they need the wards and are bringing the people to safety, I dare say it must be something rather unpleasant.”

“Hm,” Shia grabbed her lance and followed his example, “we need to get going. There is no time to waste.”

Lance secured on her back, Shia walked towards the door.

* * *

The group made quickly made their way through the Firmament towards the Brume. Alongside them, the people had finally begun to slowly walk back towards the city proper, too. Guards were waving the still celebrating and mildly confused people the quickest way.

A slightly cold wind had picked up. The celebratory flags were flying through the air, displaying the sigil of the city state proudly, as the light began to fade with the now later hour of the day. The sun was still up, the street lanterns not yet lit. But it was slowly dipping beneath the horizon, it’s light slowly turning from almost glaring white to a deep red orange. Shadows growing longer with each passing minute.

Mholi took the lead. He was after all the tallest of them. Enrei and Tsuki followed closely behind, with Shia taking the rear. As soon as they were spotted by a few guards, they were waved through, too. Quickly, they climbed the stairs to the Mendicant's Court, Mholi politely pushed people to the left and right. The metal on his boots clicked with every steps, his companions following much more silently. Only the rhythmical rattling of their chain mail beneath their leather made them distinct from the rest of the crowd.

As far as they knew, the wards of the city would usually be activated from either the Holy See’s former seat of power in the cathedral or the Congregation of the Knights most Holy down in the Brume. But after Lady Icehearts attack and the initial failure of the ward, the raid of the Brume and the uprising of the true brothers of the faith, both of those options had been under repair and did not function just yet.

The third option to active Daniffen’s Collar was to simply infuse one of the dragons eyes it was fuelled by with aether. The subsequently activated partial ward would trigger a chain reaction and the other eyes would follow suit, quickly building the ward. For this very purpose, the small guard houses at each of the pillars containing an eye were occupied day and night. The shifts were even shorter than the regular ones, to ensure the guards upmost concentration throughout their work. If the ward needed to be raised, a command would be sent via link pearl – usually issues by the Lord Commander himself or his deputies as ordered by a joined motion of the house of Lords and Commons – or in emergency situations without the consent of either House. But if communications from the Congregation down to the guards was jammed, the wards would not be raised at all.

And that was a real problem. Why the actual forces of Ishgard did not get to that, was a mystery to the four adventurers. Maybe they were all occupied with the evacuation of the cities districts. That of course would take precedence.

When the group reached the open Aetheryte Plaza, a murmur rumbled through the people around them. High born and low born alike raised their heads towards the eastern skies.

There, now clearly visible, three slowly growing dots reflected the fading sunlight.

Three dots, that were not supposed to be there in the sky.

Three dots.

The one in the middle seemed to light up even brighter for a second.

At first, nothing happened.

The crowd had come to a halt, as everyone seemed to watch the three things slowly approaching the city. Everyone held their breath.

A streak of blinding white light quickly approached the city, crossing it right between the multitude of spires.

Sounds of awe echoed between the high stone walls, quickly quieted by a sudden wave of pressure.

Everyone went to their knees.

A crackling sound.

And the spires of the highest towers began to collapse inward.

Screams of fear now echoed through the Brume, accompanied by the rumbling sound of falling rocks, tiles and metal from the collapsed spires.

The adventurers had stopped at the sound of the shot and threw each other confused glances.

“The ward,” Shia commanded, “now. We have no time.” Any and all previously acquired intoxication seemed gone in the very instant.

They didn’t just jog through the Brume towards the walls, they ran as fast as their equipment allowed. As soon as they approached the first set of stairs, another loud boom crackled in their ears, followed by more screams and falling rubble.

“Quickly!”

Taking three steps at a time, they launched themselves onto the lower and uninhabited levels of Ishgard, rushing across the only free path through the age old ruins of the cities oldest parts. Rubble to their right, the depths of the abyss to their left.

There had been plans to rebuild these lower levels, too. The construction was scheduled to start a few weeks after the completion of the Firmament. They would get to it, after fixing whatever had been destroyed in the city now. If there still was a city after whatever was attacking them now was over.

“There it is,” Mholi yelled back, pointing forward to a small but still intact stone house at the foot of one of the mainstays. A horrified moan followed quickly. “Dead guard ahead. Ready your weapons.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Weapons were drawn swiftly.

Enrei hunkered down next to the knight, trying to feel for a pulls. But of course there was nothing to feel through the thick chainmail. Instead, she contended with checking his breath.

“He is still there, just barely though.”

A swift motion of her fingers across her tome and her lilac aether engulfed the unconscious elezen for a moment.

“I don’t know if that is enough to keep him alive until more help arrives, but I wouldn’t dare spend more now.”

“Good choice,” Tsuki whispered. She had followed Mholi across the body, both of them slowly approaching the guard house.

The door was only partially closed.

His Zweihander tightly gripped between his fingers, Mholi almost tip-toed there, guard up, eyes trained ahead. The door creaked loudly as he pushed it further open. A quick motion and he charged in-

Nothing.

“It’s empty,” he called back, “mostly.”

“Mostly?” Enrei got up from next to the guard and rushed by Tsuki, who only peaked her horned head in.

“Tsuki, help me please,” Shia had already put away her lance and in turn gotten to her knees, hands beneath the guards shoulders, “we cannot let him stay here. He will freeze to death.”

“Quite right.”

And together they raised the body just barely off the ground and carried it into the tower.

The inside was far warmer than the outside, even though the provisional campfire seemed to have gone out. But at least the howling winds didn’t get them here.

Enrei helped the other two women lay the guard onto a table, before they examined the room.

The Dragoon was the first to notice the blood on the walls. She followed it up a set of stairs.

The first floor, if that is what you could call the basement of a pillar, was light up in dim yellow light by a floating orb. It was surrounded by thick metal bars. The eye at least seemed unharmed. The body on the ground next to it, less so.

Shia turned it over.

It was another elezen knight of Ishgard. His eyes were half opened, a grimace frozen onto his face.

With careful fingers, Shia pulled back the hood of chainmail.

“Halone bite me,” she whispered under her breath before yelling down the stairs: “We have another up here! He got shot!”

Footsteps and Enrei was by her side.

“Shot? Let me see. You Dragoons couldn’t possibly distinct-” she grunted but stopped herself at the sight of the circle shaped wound on the right side of the knights head. “You are right. That one was shot.”

“I said that.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Enrei, this is neither the time, nor the place to-”

“If the two of you are done arguing, please come down again, yes?”

Tsukis voice was friendly. The undertone icy.

Nobody in their right mind dared to defy the direct wish of a skilled Blackmage such as Tsuki. Without another word, the two bickering ladies hurried down the stairs.

“We found something,” Tsuki brushed some of her lavender hair out of her face. “Mholi is currently taking care of it.”

A cracking noise and the Dark Knights blade sunk into a small box on the ground. A tiny explosion echoed through the room, followed by a cloud of smoke.

Mholi bent down to pick the device up.

“I am by no means an expert,” he supplied, studying the thing, “but this very much looks like magitek. Garlean magitek.”

“Try to reach the congregation with your linkpearl,” Shia nodded to her friend and made for the other side of the room, to peak out of the door to the next part of the walkabout towards the second mainstay.

His sword secured on his back again, Mholi reached up to one of his furred ears.

“This is Mholi’to Lihzeh speaking. Congregation, please come in.”

He waited a second. And another.

"No connection. Only static hissing,” he shook his head.

“Yeah, no surprise there.” Shia carefully peaked out of the door, before quickly closing it. “There is a small airship docked at the next pillar. There doesn’t look to be anyone near it. If I had to guess, I’d say there are more of these boxes on that ship.”

“Who do you think would do such a thing? Why jam communications?” Tsuki.

“The hell I know,” Enrei was leaning over the one surviving knight, “but we are all probably thinking the bloody same thing.”

An uncomfortable quietness fell across the room.

Yes, they all thought the same thing. But discussing the whys, whosits and whatsits wouldn’t help Ishgard in that very moment.

Another deafening boom from above shook the walls. Freshly fallen plaster dusted the room like snow.

“Mholi, you and I are going to inspect that ship and take care of any jamming devices we might find. And of any person trying to hinder us. Tsuki, Enrei,” Shia grabbed her lance again, “the both of you are much better at channelling aether than the two of us. Try your hardest to activate the eye. Just igniting one should be enough to trigger the ward. We need to get it up to shield the city from whatever attack we might be facing.” She had her hand on the doorknob, ready to open it as soon as Mholi was in position.

“Roger that.”

The door opened, a cold gust of wind rushed into the tower. It was only a taste of what was to come: As soon as the two fighter stepped into the open air, the howling wind rattled their armour and send their free hair flying up.

Mholi threw a quick glance to the left and into the abyss, where they had tried to get rid of Niddhogs eyes so very long ago. It was so deep, he couldn’t make out the bottom.

_Better not think about what awaits those who fall …_

Both fighters ducked down to silently move between the rubble of the old city. A hard task, given they were dressed in rattling chain- and plate mail. Metal scrapping across the tattered cobble stone. Thankfully, the howling of the abyssal winds covered most of the noise they made.

The small airship was floating maybe a hand broad above the bridge, blocking the path completely. It looked more like a cockleshell than an actual airship. The steering wheel looked locked in and no one was aboard. It was still humming though, as if someone had just been here.

Mholi slowly removed his sword from his back. Holding it at the ready, he crept up to the ships railing. Carefully, he peaked above to take a closer look.

Shia mirrored his movement, only on the other side of it.

“How strange,” she whispered and sank back down, her lance at the ready, “where are they?”

Her companion shrugged and nudged his head towards the close tower, just as a loud cry for help rang through the air.

Neither of them waited any longer. Both jumped up onto the deck of the airship, speeding across its planks and towards the yell. It was followed by cluttering of metal on metal, another shriek and-

Mholi didn't bother pushing the door open. He simply cut straight through the thick wooden beams and metal reinforcements. Splinters everywhere, he pushed forward.

His companion flashed into the tower, simply sliding through beneath his blade and across the rubble.

“To the right,” she yelled and jumped to the left.

Sword twisting in his grip, Mholi grinned and did as she bid him – turning to the right. There, he saw two men wrangling with each other.

No time to think.

He lunged forward, shoving his blade between the two bodies, prying them apart.

The one closer to the wall slowly slid down, silver chainmail and blue tabard red with blood. The other one was clad all in black. Until Mholi plunged his blade into his shoulder.

Shia on the other hand had crouched down and quickly trust her lance upwards into the chest of a second person in black.

A loud banging noise echoed through the tower. The table broke. A clattering sound on the ground and Shia slowly rose back to her feet. Her lance though, was still deeply embedded in the chest of the second person in black, now slowly forcing them to back up against the wall.

“Are there more of you,” she asked, eyes narrowed.

The one she had at her mercy did not answer, but only tried to push the lance away. A pained whimper.

Shia pulled her weapon back, placing the tip beneath the chin part of the persons helmet.

“I asked you a question.”

“He won’t answer with that pierced lung,” the other person grunted.

Mholi kept his sword embedded in that ones shoulder. “Then please, do us the favour and answer for him.”

A moment of silence.

“It’s just us.”

“Good. To the wall with you.”

“I’ll check upstairs. Just to be sure,” Shia gave her victim a shove. They sank down to the floor, coughing.

The blonde Dragoon rushed towards the stairs on the other side of the room, avoiding the broken legs of the table and the other clutter. The knight had probably given them a good fight before getting pushed towards the wall.

Her boots clicking on the steps, Shia sprinted up the winding stairs.

Click. Click. Click.

Metal on stone.

The room with this pillars eye was almost empty. The glowing orb was still safely in its place. Across from the stairs though, she spotted another body slumped down at the wall.

She closed the distance and examined it.

Another knight. Three bullet holes in his armour. No breathing.

“Shit. Mholi,” with clicking steps, she jumped down again, “we have another dead up there.”

“...” He still had his sword straight up pinning the two figures against the wall. “Can you please give the knight over there a quick heal? I’ve got our two new friends here exactly where I want them,” he hovered the blade right between them, “and you will sing. Like tiny Garlean birds.”

* * *

Stabilizing the surviving knight was not an issue. He had been hit, but not anywhere. The two intruders were bound and gagged. After confirming that it had only been them, they had nothing more to say. Shia and Mholi deemed interrogating them a job for the temple knights anyways.

The one living member of said order directed them to a small box just like the one they had found in the first. A quick stabbing later and Mholis linkpearl finally went off.

Reinforcements were finally on the way, just as a the air around them began to pop with energy. A rhythmic hum followed and a quick glance outside confirmed their suspicion:

The ward was finally up. Ishgard safe for the time being.

The moment the new units arrived, the four fighters returned to the now empty Aetheryte plaza at Foundation. It seemed like all civilians had finally been evacuated. All of them brought to safety.

Though, freshly fallen rubble cluttered the cobbled streets of the city. It seemed like a few more of those light beams had hit and one of the tall spires piercing the heavens was now adorned with a huge hole. It did not look safe in the slightest.

Shia slowly walked towards the Arc of the worthy, eyes cast upon the eastern skies. The others followed.

It was floating high above the bridges and arcs of the eastern city parts. A colossus of dark steel. Hundreds of thousands of tons of high-end quality. A masterpiece of ingenuity. Multicoloured light pouring out of a seemingly infinite number of scuttles.

The monstrosity towered over the city, probably hosting a well-trained crew the size of a small village itself. Simply watching it hover gave the group chills. Yes, this one would be able to raze Ishgard to the ground. And it would do so rather quickly.

“The Gration,” Enrei supplied, “it’s the same beast that followed us to Azys Lah. I’d know that ship everywhere.”

Tsuki nodded in agreement. “Do you think the wards will hold?”

“Maybe. But not for too long, I fear,” Mholi rose his right arm, pointing to two smaller ships hovering next to the Garlean flagship. “They will not stay up there and wait for Ishgard to lower her defences. They will break through, if necessary, I’d guess.”

“And they will. Look, there are even more incoming.” Shia clutched her lance, narrowed eyes trained on a multitude of smaller dots slowly popping into their vision. Her whole body was shaking. “Are we just going to let them get away with this?”

“Lucia said the shields would hold for quite a while. They withstood the assaults of the Dragonsong War after all,” Mholi had crossed his armoured arms. “We should meet with the Lord Commander and wait for new orders.”

“Bullshite.” Enreis tail was wagging left and right, her ears tightly glued to her head. “If we don’t act now, this city will fall. And I don’t want to see my bloody efforts in figuring out the sewer system of the Firmament go to waste! And don’t even start with Ishgards own fleet – they haven’t moved any of their airships since the Iron Works took it upon themselves to repair them.”

“Agreed,” Shia mumbled, “Tsuki? Are you with us?”

The pale Au’ra gripped her staff tightly. Her eyes gleamed with determination. The strong winds howling across the cobbled path made it look as if she was radiating energy, her dress whirling up and down.

“I think so. I love this city as much as you do. I don’t want to see it fall.”

“That leaves you, Mholi.”

And Mholi sighed. “I am not saying that I don’t wish to save Ishgard or that I want to watch it burn. But I think it would be wise to talk to those in charge and plan the defence together.”

A nod from Shia. “You are right, yes. But I am done waiting for other people to decide. They are taking far too long and their indecisiveness almost cost us the city once. You all know of my devotion to Ishgard and Ser Aymeric in particular,” her cheeks turned a warm rosy glow, “but I am with Enrei on this one.”

“Finally,” the other female Miqo’te groaned. She grabbed her book, flipping through the pages quickly, “so what’s the plan? Invoking Hydaelin and blasting them all out of the sky? Or a more subtle approach with the Dragon Killers?” She slammed the ledger shut. “But let us all be honest here – making them drop like flies would be rather lovely.”

“Neither of those are particularly subtle,” Mholi tried to throw in, but none of the women were listening. He waved his hands in defeat and started checking his gear. If his companions could not be deterred from their idea, he would at least try to be prepared for whatever thing they would be pulling him into next. Not going with them was not an option after all. Who would keep the loose canons in check, if not he?

“If you don’t mind … I do have an idea.”

Shia raised her lance into the air, the sharp end pointing towards the skies.

“Let us take this one down. Make it crash into the rift below the city.”

The wind seemed to pick up as the others assembled around her, trying to see what exactly she was trying to show them.

“… that would certainly send a message,” Tsuki gave a quick nod.

Enrei grinned, “oh that it would.”

“You are all mad,” was Mholis comment on the whole situation, “but if something could possibly work, it would be that.”

“It’s decided then,” a mischievous grin played around Shias lips, “we are taking down the Gration.”

* * *

_End of Act I._


End file.
